


Remember Me

by tommyglued



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: (so much fucking angst), Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Depression, Drowning, Forehead Touching, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Illness, Mental Instability, Suicide Attempt, anyway it's just pure pain, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6599152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommyglued/pseuds/tommyglued
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas agrees to give his brain to W.I.C.K.E.D. in order to save Newt. But is his plan going to work or did he die for nothing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this chapter to wonderful Jamie because it was her birthday last Monday ♥ (her tumblr is 00250.tumblr.com check it out it's the Best)

_Kill me. If you've ever loved me, kill me._

But how could he? Thomas turned the note in his hand for a hundredth time that day, rereading the words in his boyfriend's messy handwriting, his heart shattering to pieces all over again. How could he take Newt's life away, when he valued the boy's life more than his own?

He'd been thinking about Rat Man's offer a lot last few days, but what if it wasn't true? If W.I.C.K.E.D. was only dragging him in another test? He shook his head. He'd already decided. Too late to question it now.

He was going to save Newt.

That wasn't very easy to decide. No matter how much he hated his life, he didn't want to die. But he couldn't stand the thought of losing Newt, especially not losing him by his own hands and living with guilt and nagging feeling that he could've done more, that he could've saved him. It was a choice between him and Newt, and he'd chosen Newt.

Yes, it was definitely decided. No backing out.

Thomas slowly lifted himself up from his bed, careful not to wake any of his roommates. Through the window he saw night's sky overwhelmed with stars and he remembered reading how they were just an echo of past, dead for hundreds of years, and yet they still blessed the universe with their beauty. He turned away and sighed. A long day was ahead of him.

Tiptoeing across the room, he reached the door and stepped outside. It was a dangerous thing to do, as there were cranks roaming the streets, but he needed solitude. He walked a few houses to right, checking now and then if he was followed. So far so good. Then, with a shiver coming up his spine, he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. It was given to him by Rat Man when he appeared in that helicopter and tried to convince Thomas to sacrifice himself for greater good. He resented the device, but he dialed the only number that was memorised in call log. Standing alone in the street, he was a coiled spring: even the tiniest sound made him spin in alarm.

"Hello Thomas. I'm guessing you are bringing good news?" said Rat Man's voice through the phone.

"Yes."

"Wonderful! You're doing the right thing! Now, we'll -"

"But only if you promise me to fulfill my requests."

Thomas waited. He could tell Rat Man was not too happy about the unexpected turn in his plan.

"Very well. Tell me those requests of yours."

Thomas took a deep breath. He'd been thinking about what he was going to say whole night. However, he didn't trust Rat Man and couldn't be sure if he'll do what Thomas said, but he was determined to make him do so.

"First," Thomas said, "you'll find Newt and take him somewhere safe and keep an eye on him. Do not harm him in  _any_  way while doing so. He'll protest, but if he's too aggressive", he chocked, but ordered himself to stay focused, "inject him with a calming serum. Alright?"

He was breathing hard. Talking about Newt made Thomas extremely nostalgic for the boy's strong arms around him, the special smile which he saved only for him, his soft lips on his. The sweetness of memories almost made him break down again.

 _Hold your klunk together_ , he told himself.

He could nearly feel Rat Man smiling. That disgusting human being.

"Alright. Second?"

"When he is safe, isolated in ideally a room of some sort, drug him with Bliss until the cure is perfected. Check on him often if he tries to escape or harm himself. Also, make sure there are no such objects in the room. I mean, the ones he could use to harm himself."

Every word pierced him like a white-hot blade through chest. He was literally telling them to put Newt in a sort of prison. But it was the only way.

"Hmmm, interesting. That's a very expensive wish, Thomas."

"I'm not coming if you don't give me your word to do everything as I say." He gulped. "These are my last wishes, can you not make them true? After what I am about to do for humanity?"

"Fine, fine. I have to talk about this with Ava anyway. If she approves, your wishes are granted. Anything else?"

"Yes. Newt will be the first to get the perfected cure. W.I.C.K.E.D. will take care of him while he recovers. When he's completely cured, send him to our friends."

Quiet. Then Rat Man cleared his throat.

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Very well, then. I'll talk to Ava and inform you about her decision. Expect a call about an hour from now."

"Okay."

Rat Man hung up the call. Thomas hadn't realized he was shivering despite the warm night. He suddenly became very aware of the lack of life in the street he was standing in. Slowly, he returned to the house he was staying in, pried the door open and came in as quietly as possible. Luckily, everyone was still fast asleep. Thomas looked at Minho, his best friend, and felt a pang of sadness for planning to go without a proper goodbye, but he knew Minho wouldn't even let him go in the first place.

He picked up scraps of paper and a pen he found in the house and tiptoed to kitchen, where he seated himself at a table, put his phone beside him and began writing. First, he wrote a letter to Minho. It was messy and full of crossed words and smudges from an occasional tear that would make its way down Thomas's cheek without him realizing it, so he decided to copy it on another piece of paper. Then, he wrote a letter to Newt. But how to put all he wanted to say into simple things as words? His feelings were much more complex. About halfway through the letter, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone's screen lit up. He'd completely forgotten about a call he was expecting. Grabbing the gadget, he silently reached the door and walked out, not accepting the call until he was 3 houses away.

"Hello?"

"Hello Thomas.", spoke a woman, which took him by surprise. "I'm Ava Paige. Jansen has told me about your requests." Thomas held his breath. "Considering the great favor you are about to do for human race, I accept to personally make sure all your requests are fulfilled. You deserve that much."

Thomas couldn’t believe his ears. “R..I mean Jansen told you about all three of my requests?”

“Yes, of course. And I assure you, my team will take care of him.”

A huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.

"Oh..thank you. Thank you so much."

Thomas had a feeling she smiled. "No problem. Now, about your transport to our headquarters: one of our drivers will come to pick you up around sunrise on the corner of your street."

"Okay." Then it hit him. "Actually, hold up. How do you know where I am?"

Now he was sure she smiled. "I know many things. And Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"Give this phone to Minho. He'll need it."

"For what?"

"Well, let's say he's got his own path to follow."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to. Goodbye, Thomas."

"Wait!"

But Ava hung him up. Thomas was confused, curious and slightly frustrated that she didn't tell him what she intended to do with Minho, but he was used to not being given answers. He decided to let it go, for now.

A sound of a can hitting the ground made Thomas spin around so fast his neck cracked. It didn't make him feel any better when he noticed a woman, her hair tattered, clothes ripped, reach down for a fallen can about 10 yards away from him.

"Silly me. Silly, silly me.", she mumbled, seemingly unbothered or unaware of Thomas's presence. Careful not to draw her attention, he managed to make it to the door unnoticed. Once safely inside, it hit him how it was now all settled. He was officially giving his brain to W.I.C.K.E.D..  _They better find that goddamn cure_ , he thought. He made his way toward kitchen and saw an unfinished letter to Newt lying on the table. A lump formed in his throat. Better finish what he started.

Lots of tears and thrown papers later, he stared at lines that curved into words in his own handwriting and wondered if Newt will ever forgive him for choosing him over himself.

He carefully folded the letters and wrote "For Minho" and "For Newt" on ones that belonged to them. Soundlessly, he sneaked up beside Minho and placed the letters and the phone next to him. Minho stirred in his sleep and for one terrifying moment Thomas thought he had woken him up, but it turned out he was lucky. If Minho saw him, he didn't know if he could leave. It was better this way.

He glanced at a window and saw sky glow gold on the horizon. His heart skipped a beat. It was time.

On the doorway, he glanced at his peacefully-sleeping friends and bid them silent goodbyes. As he teared up again, he started hating how emotional he was. Prying away his eyes from them, he stepped outside and inhaled fresh morning air. Just as Ava had promised, a car which had definitely seen better times stood on the corner of the street.

Thomas didn't bring a backpack with him because honestly, what would he need it for? All he had were bittersweet memories from past few months.

When he opened the car door, a middle aged man with dark, short-cut hair greeted him nervously.

"You're Thomas, right?"

"I'm the one."

"Good. Get in."

Thomas seated himself as comfortably as he could, but got startled when a gun appeared in front of his eyes.

"Just in case, you know, we run into some hungry cranks."

 _Oh_. He was giving it to him.

"Um, thank you." The handle of his new weapon felt icy cold in his hand. Uneasily, he put it under his belt. The car started, and they took off into the city.

The buildings and vast, deserted areas passed by Thomas in a blur, until a certain turmoil caught his eye.

There was a group of people clothed in green protective suits trying to capture a crank who was struggling like his life depended on it. Thomas nearly got a heart attack when he realized whose blonde hair that was.

"KEEP YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF ME!"

Then the car passed by and he turned around. A knot in Thomas's chest tightened when he saw his boyfriend's eyes widen in shock.

"Tommy?"

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.

"Stop the car.", said Thomas urgently.

"What, are you crazy?"

"Stop the fucking car!"

The car halted rather roughly. Thomas took a shaky breath and jumped out. There was 10 meters of space between them, but it felt much closer. It physically hurt Thomas to see chunks of blonde's hair missing, parts of his skin peeling off or seeming like they'd been clawed at, his once beautiful blue eyes mad and full of hatred.

Newt wriggled around trying to shake his captors away, but his eyes stayed fixed on Thomas.

"Let him go.", said Thomas, trying to sound as calm as possible. It was horribly hard to stay cold headed when everything he'd ever loved was in ruins right in front of him.

"But -", started one of captors.

"Do it."

They cautiously freed Newt's arms and he paced towards Thomas, who took a few steps forward himself until they were only 3 meters apart.

There were so many things he wanted to say but couldn't find the right words, so many things he wanted to do but didn't know how to. He wanted to run and wrap his arms around Newt's neck and kiss him for the good old time's sake. But he couldn't. Instead, he was just suffering in misery, dying inside as his lover's bloodshot eyes ripped his soul apart, bit by bit.

"Well, hi Tommy. Good to see you after you very politely ignored my note two days ago.", Newt sneered.

"Newt, I-", Thomas croaked. "I didn't know what note said back then."

"Oh, so you didn't even care what was written on it? You didn't even bother to check it out?" Newt's fists were clenched and he took two steps forward. "You were so self centered, so worried about saving your own skin to even get a bit concerned about me?"

"Newt!", Thomas gasped. Every word that slid out of boy's mouth hit him like a bullet in gut. "It wasn't like that, you know it wasn't! You said I'll know when to open it but-"

"Me being taken away was not an event huge enough, right?" They were now only three steps away from each other. "While you fooled around, I was starving, dying from unbearable splitting headaches, trying not to get eaten by other cranks! Why did you even come here? Wanted a hug? A kiss? Lay here and cuddle and talk about the good times? WELL YOU WON'T BE GETTING THOSE!"

Suddenly, Newt gripped collars of Thomas's shirt and the captors ran for help but Thomas help up his hand, gesturing them not to come close. Newt didn't seem to notice. His wild eyes were fixed on Thomas's, their faces only inches apart. Thomas's face was wet with tears and he was shaking so hard he thought he might collapse. Newt continued to shout.

"After all the things I've done for you, after all we've been through, you can't do that ONE thing I'm asking you to do?" 

"I can't kill you Newt. It would be like killing myself." Newt exhaled and seemed to cool down a bit, but there was still madness in his eyes.

"Did I ever tell you how I got this limp, Tommy? No, I think I didn't. I tried to kill myself in the maze. Climbed halfway up one of those bloody walls and jumped right off. Alby found me and dragged me back to the Glade right before the Doors closed. I hated the place Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all... your... FAULT!"

He was shaking Thomas with such force, Thomas thought he'd black out. Captors were now getting seriously jumpy, but they couldn't act unless Thomas told them to.

Thomas felt Newt bring his forehead to his, and drops of salty tears that weren't his rolled down his face.

"Don't let me become one of those cannibal monsters. Just end this nightmare. Please Tommy, _please_."

Listening to Newt, Thomas couldn't help thinking how he reminded him of a dead star, ruined and charred, his insanity just a long lost echo coming back to him randomly, which set Thomas's heart on fire and brought a fresh wave of tears to his eyes. He couldn't believe what that horrible decease had done to the boy he loved. It was too much to handle. A wave of hatred for W.I.C.K.E.D. washed over him like sea over a sandy shore. They have done this to him. It was their fault that Newt was suffering and begging Thomas to end his life.  _It was all their fucking fault_.

And yet Thomas was going straight to their open arms, trusting them with his life and letting them use him as an experiment to make the cure.

Oh, things people were ready to do for love.

Thomas brought his hands to Newt's face and gently brushed the tears away."I won't let anything bad happen to you, Newt. But I can't kill you. I'm sorry." His voice broke and he took a step back. The look of absolute hurt on Newt's face was a drop overfilling the cup. Thomas turned and ran.

Captors took that as a sign to get back to work. Before Newt could reach Thomas, they had caught him and tried to drag him away. Newt's screams of frustration rang in Thomas's ears.

"TRIATOR! COWARD! I TRUSTED YOU!"

Once safely inside the car, he didn't dare look back. When the screaming stopped, he couldn't stand not seeing what happened. He regretted being so curious, but he was worried sick about the boy. The sight didn't make him feel better at all. Newt was lifeless, hauled across the dusty road towards a van Thomas hadn't noticed before. One of the captors turned around and gave him thumbs up, which probably meant that they have only drugged him, but that gesture seemed so silly compared to Newt's state, he just looked away.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?", he yelled at the driver, which made the man literally jump. "Go!"

As the car continued on along the road, Thomas just put his hands on his face and sobbed until his throat felt sore.

***

W.I.C.K.E.D. compound loomed over him as the car parked in front of large doors. He was greeted by guards that led him inside. Walking down long, never ending halls, he got so disorientated because all the walls glowed white, which was incredibly distracting.

They stopped in front of a door that looked like every other door they passed.

"Go in and rest a bit. Take a shower, change clothes, sleep, or eat: you have some food in the fridge. We'll knock when Ava calls you, okay?"

"Mhm."

The room he was given was quite small, but he didn't mind. First thing he did was take a shower. He didn't remember the last time he enjoyed the pleasure of being completely clean. After he put on new clothes, he peered into the fridge and was not disappointed. There was his favourite sandwich, waiting to be eaten. He hadn't even realized just how hungry he was. After he finished eating, he lay on the bed, gazing at the ceiling and remembering all the things that made him happy. 

Sitting under a tree with Chuck who gossiped about the guys in the Glade. Seeing Newt for the first time, how he totally blew him off his feet when he grinned at him, his sea blue eyes crinkling when he laughed. Meeting Minho. Becoming a Runner. Spending entire days exploring the maze with Minho. A tingle of jealously in Newt's eyes when he saw him chatting with Minho alone. Meeting Frypan, Zart, Winston, Alby and other guys from the Glade. His and Newt's first kiss behind the Homestead. The smell of Newt's hair. Them sneaking out and cuddling in the woods. A month after his arrival appeared Teresa. Things got problematic. Now that he was maybe a few hours away from his death, he realized just how unfair he'd been to her about her betrayal. She did the only thing she could to save him, which was very similar to what he was doing now for Newt. He wished he could tell her how sorry he was.

Later on, he met Brenda, Jorge, Sonya, Harriet and other girls from group A. He felt grateful to have met them.

A knock was heard behind the door, and Thomas stood up. It was time to go.

Guards led him to another room where Ava Paige and Rat Man waited for him to assure him that he was going to be given credit for what he was going to do and that they'll inject him with sleeping serum so he wouldn't feel pain.

"Just remember to keep your promise", Thomas told Ava. "and find the cure."

She genuinely smiled. "Don't worry about it." And he believed her.

"Are you ready?", asked Rat Man. The determination to save Newt overwhelmed every fiber in his body and eliminated his fear.

"Yeah, I am."

Lying on the table in operation room, right before he was drugged to sleep, he remembered Newt's excited smile after their first kiss, so warm and full of love. The memory made him relax. After that, slowly, the world turned silent and dark and Thomas didn't feel anything anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know or have forgotten: Thomas's real name is Stephen. JDash posted it on his twitter a while ago and it will be mentioned later ;)

Very little did Newt remember since the Flare started taking hold of him that wasn't a blurry me ss. Having nothing to do alone in a disturbingly white and empty room, he dived into a sea of memories that kept resurfacing in his broken mind.

The freshest and most painful memory flashed in front of his eyes. Newt remembered Tommy's agonized face, streams of tears running down his cheeks. He held Newt's face in both of his hands like he was the most precious thing in the world.

_ I won't let anything bad happen to you, Newt. But I can't kill you. I'm sorry. _

His eyes looked like broken glass as he took a step away from Newt, like something behind them shattered to pieces, never to be glued together again. It was very selfish, Newt knew that, but he couldn't help feeling betrayed and confused. He was far too damaged to be saved. And he desperately wanted his misery, the constant feeling of being ruthlessly torn apart, to _end_.

That's when the Flare turned the off switch to his sanity and he was consumed by a fiery pit of bubbling anger he knew too well. The world went blurry and he screamed terrible insults at the boy he loved so much it hurt.

Newt let tears flow down his face. He hated himself and that fucked up decease he wasn't immune to. He hated being entirely helpless and unable to control his actions. He especially hated how all of that affected Tommy in the most horrible of ways. Newt had to protect him by distancing himself because he couldn't bear the thought of Tommy watching him slowly go entirely insane. And what if he accidentally hurt him when the Flare took control of him? He winced at a mere thought of it.

When the guards took him away to Crank Palace, he was grateful. At least he didn't have to plan leaving his friends, but had someone else to blame instead.

He remembered the day when Tommy, Minho and Brenda came for him. Her fingers were laced with Minho's as they approached him cautiously, like he was a wild animal they were trying to hunt down. Tommy was right beside them, sidestepping sleeping Cranks. Newt was breathing hard. He couldn't believe they didn't understand. It was his choice. And he doubted Tommy would want audience for what Newt had asked him to do.

"I told you bloody shanks to get lost!", he said, trying to keep his voice calm, but the words echoed through the bowling room despite him.

Minho took a step forward, eyeing a Launcher Newt was holding. "We need to talk to you."

Something in his brain snapped and he spilled out words full of menace."There's nothing to talk about. Those guards brought me in this rat hole for a reason. They climbed up on Berg and thought I was a bloody Immune. Imagine their surprise when they realized I had Flare eating up my brain." 

_ Snap _ .

Now he wished he hadn't said anything at all. He was giving his friends a hard time _.Again_. He was tired of fighting the Flare, tired of hurting everyone he cared about, tired of being alive.

"I'm... not well. And I'm getting worse by every hour. I appreciate you buggin' shanks coming for me, but this is when we say our bloody goodbyes and you promise to remember me from good old days. Now please leave."

"No, we're not leaving without you!", frustration in Minho's voice escalate. "We risked our necks to come to this place and you're our friend and we're taking you home. You wanna whine while you go crazy, fine. But you're gonna do it with us, not with these filthy Cranks."

_ Snap _ .

Frustration welled up inside him. He couldn't express his disbelief at how oblivious Minho was.

His hands jerked upwards and held the Launcher in a shooting position. Minho, Tommy and Brenda backed away. "I _am_ a Crank, Minho! I _am_ a Crank! Why don't you get it? If you had an incurable decease and you knew what you were going to go through, would you want your friends to stand around and watch? Huh? Would you want that?" He was shouting by the time he finished, his arms shanking violently.

They fell silent. The buzzing of his weapon could be heard over breathing of sleeping crowd.

Then Tommy spoke. "Newt, if we knew it was going to end up like this, we wouldn't have left you alone. Please, just come with us."

Pain. So much pain had his heart been put through. It was tattered and fractured and yet it managed to bend and break at the sound of his boyfriend's false hopes.

But one thing he still couldn't wrap his mind around: how could he so stubbornly ignore the note? It was Newt's only chance to escape the torture he was going through.

" _You_ , Tommy. You've a lot of nerve coming here and asking me to leave with you. A lot of bloody nerve. The sight of you makes me sick."

Tommy looked like he was stabbed through chest with a spear. "Newt, what are you talking about?"

He seemed genuinely hurt by his words. Was it... Was it possible he didn't read it?

"I don't get it, why are you saying that?", Tommy said.

A realization dawned upon Newt. Tommy hadn't read the note. Did he not care? Had he forgotten about it? Newt stilled and lowered the Launcher. No one ever cared about him anyway. Their entire relationship must have been just an illusion. He slumped his shoulders and looked at the ground.

"Newt? What's going on?", Tommy insisted.

"It's over guys. Leave. I'm begging you, as kindly as I ever had, do that one thing for me. I'm glad to have had you in my life, but now it's time for you to go. Please."

"In no way are we-", began Minho, but Newt interrupted him, pointing the Launcher at him.

"Leave! _Now_!", he yelled.

Hefought back tears as he stared at Tommy's pleading eyes. Did he really think he didn't miss him every bloody second he spent in that hell of a place? Did he really think it didn't hurt being away from him? And God, it hurt. It hurt so much every cell in his body screamed in agony. But this was better for both of them. The less time Newt spent with him, the less he'd need to heal.

Suddenly, Tommy did something very reckless and foolish: he lurched forward and ran toward Newt. It startled him so much he loosened his grip on Launcher and it cluttered when Tommy kicked it away. Then his arms were around Newt's neck, clutching him so tightly, like he might disappear. Newt felt Tommy's tears on his shoulders and his fast and strong heartbeat against his chest.

"Please, come back with us. I'll take care of you. We'll get through this together. Just don't leave me, I love you too much to live without you."

It felt like a hand made of steel was squashing his heart to the point when he was sure it was going to burst. He wanted to hug Tommy back, to feel his skin once more, but he was afraid.

Sometimes, he could swear the Flare whispered to him in a raspy voice and his brain obeyed immediately, despite Newt's will.

_ Strangle him, throw him away! _ , it hissed in his ear.

_ No! _ , Newt replied.

Immediately, he started trembling like he stood naked in the snow. He was numb, transformed into a marionette the Flare toyed with. It took all his willpower to prevent the strings from being pulled in a way the Flare wanted to.

"Go.", he managed to say through clenched teeth, his hands balled into fists.

"N-Nooo.", Tommy sobbed, tightening his grip around Newt. "Please, Newt. Don't give up. For us. For me."

Newt turned his head away from Tommy's and closed his eyes. What had he ever done to deserve this?

"Just _go_!"

They broke apart. The world collapsed, sky crumbled onto his shoulders. He stole one last glance at the boy he was so passionately in love with and looked at his beautiful eyes.

Ah, his eyes.

When Tommy arrived to the Glade, he caught Newt's attention right away. A skinny boy with hopelessly messy brown hair made his heart skip a beat. But when he turned around and pierced him with a curious look, for a moment, Newt forgot to breathe. Tommy's right eye was hazel and his left emerald green. Some snickered, others shot him envious looks and called him ugly, but to Newt they looked...magical. Like a whole new universe was trapped behind them. Then, out of nowhere, he found himself wanting those eyes to save him a special glance, to see them up close, even.

Back then they looked hopeful, now they were hollow, coloured only to mask their emptiness. As Tommy turned his back on him, his heart shattered like broken china. Minho and Brenda stood there like statues, too stunned by what they had witnessed to move. Tommy grabbed Minho by his upper arm and pulled him along, Brenda clinging to Minho's hand, and winded their way through the sleeping crowd. Away from Newt and what was left of him.

Newt stared at a corner of the room, his eyes puffy from crying. If he weren't groggy from The Bliss, he would've trashed around and screamed at the top of his lungs. Instead, he suffered quietly. He imagined that not even the worst sinners had been tortured in ancient Fields of Punishment the way he had on Earth.

He was also fully aware of being constantly drugged with Bliss, although he didn't get it why. Why him, of all the infected people on the planet? The only logical answer to his question was, he figured, that he was being prepared for yet another test.

How long had he been imprisoned? The time seemed to lose meaning when he had nothing to do but stare at white walls and wait for whatever it was to come, his mind occasionally flooded with depressing memories of the ones he cared for.

Finally, the door he had never noticed before flew open and Rat Man stepped in, a wicked smile plastered on his face.

"Get up, Newton. We've got something for you."

Newt despised the man, but he had no other option but to follow him. He was too dizzy to fight anyway.

As Rat Man led him down corridor after corridor, time seemed to snail forward, like it was in slow motion. Eventually they reached a door no different than any other door they'd passed, except that this one was guarded. Two women armed with Launchers greeted them solemnly and opened the door. The room they entered was rather small, having enough space only for a patient's chair, a computer and a table with a needle on it. Newt considered running for it but he was much too slow, weaponless and hopelessly alone.

"It's the cure. We've finally found it and given it to other Cranks too. Now it's your turn.", said Rat Man.

Newt didn't believe him a word. "Why should I trust you? And where do you keep others then?"

"Oh, everyone's got a room for themselves, of course. And we're bringing you here one by one, so there wouldn't be accidents."

"I don't believe you."

"Ah, Newton. Do you see a way out of this? Do you think you're allowed to doubt me?"

Newt felt so groggy it was hard to feel anger at all.

Rat Man grinned. "Let's take a seat, alright?"

He grabbed Newt's arm and forced him to sit. A guard walked in and closed the door behind her.

_ What if it really is the cure? _ , Newt thought. It was unlikely, but he was so depressed he dared hope it was. What did it feel like to be healthy? He'd forgotten long ago.

Rat Man had that wicked smile on his face again and too late did Newt realize something about him was wrong. How could he be so stupid? Mad eyes, crazy grin, both of which he recognized too well-Rat Man had the Flare.

The needle was already in Newt's arm and even before it was taken out, unbearable pain started spreading through his veins.

"How sweet of them to think you'll actually be the first to get the perfected cure. And others? We'd have to wait at least a month for a new dose to be reproduced. But I care about myself more than I do about wishes of a teenage boy. Too bad.", Rat Man said, laughing like a maniac.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?", Newt screamed. He slipped from the chair and clawed at his arms, sides, face, pulling out his hair. His body was on fire, his head a grenade about to explode. He didn't hear anything but his own sceams, wriggling in pain. Black spots danced on the corners of his eyes and then-he saw him. Tommy was transparent, but he ran toward him and cupped Newt's face into his hands, glueing his forehead to Newt's and whispering words he could miraculously hear: "I'm here Newt. Stay with me. You're going to be alright."

Pressure in his head subsided, but he still felt like he was bathing in flames.

Somewhere in the distance, the door flew open and a woman in a white mantel stormed into the room. Two gunshots echoed and Rat Man fell like a rag doll, a guard stepped aside. Tommy disappeared. The woman then kneeled beside Newt and whacked another needle in his shoulder, making him black out immediately.

***

Newt squinted at blinding light as he slowly regained consciousness. When his eyes adjusted, he realized he was in a hospital room, dozens of tubes connected to his arms and chest. A computer beeped, following the rhythm of his heart. He tried to move and groaned. Every inch of him ached. Pinky skin covered his arms in places where he harmed himself.

Doubledoor in front of him opened and the woman who killed Rat Man entered, a genuine smile on her face.

"Hello Newt. How do you feel?"

"Better.", Newt said, his voice hoarse. And really, his head felt pressureless and much lighter than it usually did. "But who are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm Ava Paige, the director of W.I.C.K.E.D."

A wave of anger hit him like wild ocean splashing rocks. The woman who made his life a hell stood right in front of him.

"You ruined lives of many children, including me. What the bloody hell are you doing here, then? Come here to tell me I passed your new test? I survived the deadly vaccine.", Newt said, putting as much bitterness in his words as he could.

Her smile faltered. "Newt, listen-"

"NO, I WON'T BLOODY LISTEN!", he yelled. "WERE YOU THERE WHEN WE LOST ALL HOPE IN THE GLADE, THINKING THERE WAS NO WAY OUT? WHERE YOU THERE WHEN GRIEVERS ATE US ALIVE, WHEN METALIC BALLS CUT OURS HEADS OFF, WHEN WE STARVED AND DEHYDRATED IN THE SCORCH, WHEN HALF OF US GOT FRIED TO BONES IN THE STORM? OF COURSE YOU WEREN'T! YOU JUST SAT SAFELY BEHIND YOUR SCREENS AND WAITED FOR MIRACLE TO HAPPEN AND BRING YOU THE CURE! YOU DIDN'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS ABOUT US THEN! WHAT HAS CHANGED NOW?!"

He was breathing hard, beeps of the computer ringing in his ears, but what surprised him was that the Flare was silent, only present as a dull headache. The words he spoke were entirely his.

Ava watched him blankly, curiously even, like a mildly interesting science project.

"It was all for scientific purposes, but you must know that they, and you, didn't suffer for nothing. One boy willingly sacrificed himself for the greater good, so we named the cure after him: Stephen's cure. You must have noticed your state has significantly improved since I injected it in your arm. As for the accident two days ago, that was completely unplanned and I apologize for not being alert enough. I trusted Jansen. Clearly, I was mistaken."

Newt was speechless. He was out for _two_ days? But more important matter was on his mind.

"You let _another_ teenager die? Dozens of them wasn't enough, was it?"

Ava sighed. She seemed very tired. "Wasn't it worth it though? He'll be remembered for centuries, everyone will know his name. He saved human race. He's a hero."

Newt couldn't deny that, but he still didn't approve that one more life was ended in the name of science. "I didn't know any Stephen, but he must've been too selfless."

Ava gave him a sad smile. "He just cared deeply about others."

She studied him for a moment and then added, "You need to rest and when you're in a good enough shape, we'll scan you just to make sure you're completely cured. Now I have to go. Get well soon, Newt."

She turned, but Newt called after her. "Ms. Paige, wait!"

"Oh, call me Ava."

"Um, okay. Ava, Jansen mentioned me being the first to get the cure. Is that true?"

A smile rested on her face. "Yes, it's true."

"But why me?"

She hesitated. "You've contributed the most to our experiments, so we rewarded you this way. Any other questions?"

"No. Thank you."

"No, thank _you_. Goodbye, Newt."

"Goodbye."

 

A week later, he was scanned and checked three times before doctors announced that he was 100% healthy.

"Now you're even immune.", a doctor winked at him. That was the first time Newt smiled in months.

While he flied in a helicopter above green fields, he felt blissful. Ava told him he was being sent to a place called Paradise where his friends had settled and after such a long period of time of loneliness, he was finally going to be reunited with Minho, Frypan, Teresa, Brenda... And of course, Tommy. God, did he miss his dorky smile, glitter in his eyes when they met his, the feeling of his lips on his. There was so much to look forward to.

The helicopter descended, a crowd of curious and frightened people surrounding it in a wide circle. Newt hopped down, adrenaline running through his veins, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest. He gave thumbs up to the pilot and the helicopter flied up and disappeared. His eyes scanned the crowd for Tommy but didn't spot him. _Must be busy with something_ , Newt thought. He noticed Minho standing in front, looking at him with wide eyes. Newt couldn't help but laugh.

"You're not gonna say hello to your old pal?"

Minho grinned. "You bet."

Shortening the distance between them, they finally met, gripping each other firmly.

"'S good to have you back, Newt.", Minho said.

Newt smiled. "Good to have you back too, Minho."

"Newt! Oh my God, is that you?" Teresa stood a bit further, obviously not believing what she was seeing. Brenda and the remaining gang of Gladers waited beside her.

Newt chuckled and pointed to himself from head to toe. "As good as new. I'm happy to see you too, Teresa."

Her eyes were watery as she run and hung herself around his neck.

"Group hug!", Brenda shouted and soon he was swarmed with arms and bodies and laughs. Happiness overwhelmed him. He giggled like a small child who was given ice cream. It was the most positive feeling he experienced in past few months. And no, he definitely wasn't tearing up, okay?

"Guys this is too much, I'm honestly not worth all this attention."

"Shush.", said Brenda, "Don't ruin the moment."

So he didn't.

They hugged in silence, other inhabitants studying them questionably. After a while they broke apart, and then it hit him.

"Hey, where's Tommy?", he looked at Minho as he spoke. Suddenly all cheerfulness vanished from his friends' faces and fear made its way to his heart, wrapping it in an icy layer of worry.

"I asked, where is he?", he repeated, desperately turning around in case he somehow missed him.

"Newt, I-I'm _so_ sorry.", Teresa choked. Minho looked grave. Everyone's eyes were on the ground. Newt couldn't breathe.

"What happened Teresa? Tell me!", he pleaded. It couldn't be true. He couldn't... Tommy couldn't possibly...

"He...", she closed her eyes, tears pouring down her pale face.

"He's dead, Newt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahhh writing from Newt's POV was quite a challenge but I love it anyway :') next chapter is gonna be even angstier r.i.p.  
> Also guys if u wanna contact me u can send me a message on my tumblr: gawddamnitpotter.tumblr.com ♥


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends I'm not dead and haven't forgotten abt this fic!! so writer's block has been trying to kill me but here I am, bringing u a chapter longer than previous two together lmao. anyway!!! it's gonna be a painful ride, good luck :')

Newt stared at Teresa, transfixed by the news she brought him. He tried to grasp the meaning of her words but he couldn't comprehend them.

It couldn't be true. Tommy...  _His_  Tommy...  _Dead_?! What kind ofbad joke was that?

Yet everyone stubbornly refused to meet his glance.

"No.", he said. Teresa sobbed, covering her mouth with a hand. Minho turned his head away. Brenda gripped his arm, her eyes filled with tears.

That was ridiculous. Absurd. He started laughing, an inhuman, hysterical laughter that died almost as soon as it started. The looks he received were of pity and shock. But he couldn't process it.

Tommy... Dead. As if.

But no one laughed. No one clapped him on a shoulder saying it was all just a big nasty joke and that Tommy would be by his side any second now. No one denied Teresa's words.

He shook his head. " _No_. He can't be dead." He was still shaking his head. "Not now that I'm back and healthy. Not now.  _He can't be dead!_ "

Newt was desperate. He turned around and ran. Teresa tried to follow, but Minho stopped her. He did the right thing. Newt was going to find Tommy on his own.

He checked stalls, looked through windows of wooden houses, even asked people he ran across if they knew of a skinny boy with messy brown hair and differently coloured eyes. They all did the same: looked at him skeptically and gave him a negative answer.

He stood in a circular area that was probably centre of the little town he was brought to. Stalls with food, clothes and handmade objects surrounded it, streets stretching behind them. A little forest was visible in the distance. Newt's friends were also in the centre, but he didn't pay them much attention. He was rooted in the middle of moving crowd, pieces of a puzzle coming together in his brain. Slowly, the truth dawned on him. 

Tommy was dead.  _Tommy was fucking dead_.

Emptiness. A huge hole in his chest, vast and deep, dark and cold as ice, never to be filled. The place where he kept Tommy safe and close. With him, the place glowed, sunshine falling on paths of pure happiness which they used to roam together. All gone.

Pain. Oh, the pain. Funny, how such a complex feeling could consume one's body so quickly and intensely, leaving them paralyzed and unable to protest. It seizes you like a snake, suffocating you, its pray, until your blood turns to lava and your nerves scream for mercy.

Anger. Newt's old friend, come to check on him again. Its flaming touch lit him up like dry wood and it stood there, laughing at Newt's face and enjoying the view. The flames licked the remains of his broken heart and gave him a sudden surge of energy: he wanted answers. And he felt only one person could give him those.

His feet fell hard on the ground as he paced toward Minho, his fists balled. People leaped out of his way, their faces painted with fear until only Minho stood before him. He looked very taken aback, and was that fear behind his eyes too?

Newt halted to a stop and glared at him intensely before pouring every emotion he felt into a word, "How?"

He hadn't realized he was crying until a few tears fell from his cheeks.

After so many years of knowing him, Newt could read Minho like an open book. And yet he wasn't sure if the solemness on his face was just a mask hiding the unbearable truth he wasn't ready to share or genuine concern that Newt would flip out after hearing what he had to say. Or both?

Minho seemed to stare through him as though he were glass as he said, "He died in a battle when we were on our way to this place. I'm sorry, Newt. We couldn't do anything to help him."

_Lies._

"You mean you didn't even  _bother_  to keep an eye on him. Not important, huh?"

His words were spiced with bitter sarcasm, but he could tell Minho wouldn't tolerate that.

"Look, Newt. You very well know how it is in a fight, you-"

"Yes I do. But I still had time to watch over your bloody asses in case you needed help. Because that's what friends  _do._  They keep each other's backs." 

Minho opened his mouth to protest, but Newt held up his hand.

" _I'm not done_. Even if you were so busy, you didn't even  _care_  to bring his body here and bury him like he deserves?" He paused. "Or did you?"

"No, but-"

"See? You didn't even do that  _one_  thing to honor him." By now, he was shouting, showering Minho with accusations. "You let him rot, abandoned, you probably didn't even check if he was breathing. He wasn't moving so you assumed he was dead without checking and just went on with your lives-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!", Minho blurted and shocked Newt into silence. "Are you trying to say that I would leave Thomas, my best friend, without being completely sure there wasn't any hope for him? That I wouldn't try to keep him alive at all cost? And would you drag a dead body over hundreds of miles to bury it?"

Teresa, Brenda and Frypan looked at him like he'd gone a bit too far, but Newt knew better. Shame washed over him like a drizzling rain, making him wish for earth to open and swallow him. He couldn't believe how ignorant he sounded mere seconds ago.  _Of course_  Minho would never do anything Newt called him out for.

"Minho I- I'm so sorry I-"

Newt let out a shaky breath. His shoulders slumped. From millions of fuzzy thoughts that ran through his brain, one stood out.

Tommy died fighting.

Horrible possibilities of Tommy's death flashed in his mind. He closed his eyes and covered his face to block them, but it was a fool's job. Horrors are better seen in the dark.

If he were a river, he would've become a disastrous flood. Pain, anger, emptiness, grief; it hit him all at once, overwhelming him to the point he thought his chest would burst open. It was too much to handle.

"I-I just need...some time...", he managed, but Minho just nodded. Without glancing back, Newt took off and ran into the woods, trying hard not to fall apart in front of his friends.

On and on he ran, twigs bruising his arms and face, until fire burning in his chest went out along with all of his energy. He stood there in the middle of nowhere, as vulnerable as a bleeding man in a sea full of sharks. Pain and emptiness didn't miss a chance to feed on his misery. He imagined how Tommy would hold him tightly, nestling his head under Newt's neck like he used to, if he saw what a mess he was.

Tommy.

His dead boyfriend.

In a second, all his dreams and hopes crashed and turned to dust. His cheeks were wet, a lump formed in his throat. He was suffocating in tears.

Never again would he see Tommy's adorable smile he received every time they were alone. Never again would he hear his laugh as they teased each other. Never again would he get lost and find peace in his eyes. Never feel the taste of their love, sweet like the finest chocolate that slowly melts on your tongue. Never wrap his arms around him and inhale the smell of mint and sea he always had. Never get that feeling in his gut when their fingers intertwined.  _Never again_.

His knees gave away and he fell, shaking as heavy tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Nooo oo o... T-Tommy...", he moaned, clutching his chest. He was dying, he was sure of it, because how could one keep living when half of their soul was missing? Excruciating pain was just a necessary bridge he had to cross to fall into death's embrace and gladly throw what was left of his soul away, hopefully finding peace on the other side. Who knows, maybe he would even get his boyfriend back.

 

Hours later, he still sat in the same place, staring at the distance and thinking.

Never in his life had he cried in front of anyone but Tommy. He felt like he was stripped naked. Now everyone had seen him in his rawest, weakest state and it drove him nuts. For as long as he could remember, he worked hard on concealing any feelings he might feel. It was like a survival instinct. Show emotions, no one takes you seriously. Later on, when others started looking up to him, he couldn't let them down. So he piled all emotions carefully, taming them like wild animals, but when he couldn't hold them down anymore he'd hide in his special place in the woods and let it all out. He'd been very surprised when he, barely holding back tears, found Tommy sitting at his crying place. It was probably at that moment when he realized how much he trusted Tommy when he didn't mind his company the slightest.

Tommy...

Regret clawed at his heart as he remembered how ruthlessly they'd parted. He'd been driven insane, yelling words he didn't mean. Tommy deserved better. Oh, what he would do to change that, to change the whole period of time starting when he got infected.

Newt wiped off a fresh wave of tears. He was  _not_  gonna cry for about twentieth time in a row.

Suddenly, he heard rustle of leaves, startling him and making him spin around in a millisecond only to see Minho slowly approaching him.

"Man, you scared the shit out of us. We've been searching for you for three hours now."

"Sorry", he mumbled, both of his hands on his face. "I'm just...such a mess after..."

He couldn't finish the sentence.

Minho kneeled beside him. "I know." He gripped Newt's shoulder. "Look, you've got Frypan, Teresa, Brenda, Gally, girls from group B, me. We all care about you and will help you go through this. Okay?"

Newt nodded, thinking how he didn't deserve such wonderful friends.

A moment passed before Minho spoke. "You ready to go back?"

No. The answer was no. But he couldn't hide in those woods for the rest of his life.

"Yeah.", he said.

"Good. Let's go."

***

Newt frowned at the plate full of food in front of him. Absentmindedly, he prodded a potato with a fork, his thoughts a rollercoaster which only went down.

Someone tapped him on a shoulder and he span around, startled. His eyes fell on Minho's worried face.

Minho's eyes darted from him to the unchanged state of his plate. He shot Newt a disapproving glare.

"Man, have you eaten  _anything_  at all?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Not hungry."

"Look, you haven't been hungry for weeks. Even if you're gonna throw it up later, I want you to eat this, okay? You gotta take in some proteins, pal."

Newt frowned, unamused. Minho still stared at him, concerned look on his face.

"If you seriously think I'm gonna let my best friend starve to death, then you're  _very_  wrong, Newt. You're already losing weight, soon you'll be only skin and bones."

Newt shrugged. "I don't really care."

He really didn't. His life didn't make sense. Empty days dragged forward, time slipping by him. Without Tommy, he felt faded from the world, just a shadow of who he once was.

Minho looked like he was slapped. "Well I do care, and so does everyone else. We're not gonna let you give up on yourself, understand?"

Newt was overcome with gratitude towards Minho, just like he was every time someone reassured him they still cared about him. He nodded, but it still didn't give him sudden inspiration to eat.

When he didn't make any effort to pick up the fork again, Minho sighed, then sat across from Newt. "I'm gonna be throwing you my look of shame until you eat  _everything_  on that plate." Newt opened his mouth to protest, but Minho cut him off. "No complaining."

"Fine.", Newt announced, defeated. But after few mouthfulls, he was full like he'd eaten several plates of food all by himself.

"I can't, I'm full."

"Do you feel my look of shame piercing you?"

"Yes, but it's not effective anymore."

Minho sighed, trying not to look so tired, but he couldn't hide that from Newt. He knew very well how exhausting he was to everyone who cared about him.

"C'mon man, you haven't even eaten half of it."

"I can't, Minho."

"Just a bit more? Pleeeasee?"

Minho pouted like a child, trying to buy Newt with a puppy face. He never did a puppy face. Except when he was truly desperate.

Newt decided to take one for the team. He bit off a huge chunk of meat and, with his mouth still full, said, "Happy?"

A satisfied grin spread across Minho's face. "Happy."

***

Stars. Glitter on black canvas, as Newt liked to call them. Gazing at that piece of art, he lay on a beach he discovered few months before, about three kilometers away from the town. In the distance along the sandy shore, a rocky cliff could be seen. The beach was his new safe place now: a place where he was guaranteed solitude.

Beside him stood empty bottles of liquor, another bottle in his hand. The soothing sound of waves lulled him into thinking about Tommy and how desperately he missed him. Not even drinking could keep him off his mind. But did he really want that, though? To push him in the back of his brain and move on?

He couldn't. An impact Tommy made on his life was too great to let that happen. With a gentle brush of his fingers against Newt's cheeks, he had a power to remind him that life was worth living. That he was not alone.

During the day, he was usually accompanied by someone who made sure he treated himself well, but not even such affection could fill the empty space in his chest which consumed him in its icy mist.

What kind of paradise was that if Tommy wasn't in it, anyway?

Newt sat up and drained the bottle.

There was no point in living a meaningless life. The Paradise would never be a paradise to him, not without the only person who made his life worth living.

***

Newt stared at the ceiling, a constant buzz of thoughts in his head keeping him awake. Every time he closed his eyes, the buzz only became louder. Deciding it was useless to keep trying to fall asleep, he half-heartedly got up and carefully sneaked out of the house. Even that small activity tired him like he'd ran a marathon. Not wanting to risk collapsing halfway to the beach, he slumped on front steps and hugged his knees, staring intently at the ground.

The way he was continuously out of energy was seriously getting on his nerves. He wanted to participate in field work but his muscles just wouldn't cooperate. That also might or might not be because he'd lost a hell lot of weight. But he just...couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. 

God, how worthless he was.

Light footsteps could be heard on a dusty road. Newt looked up and recognized a pale face and long black hair which would have blended with the darkness were it not for moonlight.

"Hey, Newt.", Teresa whispered.

He smiled and lifted his hand in a greeting gesture.

"Can I join you?"

"Sure.", he answered.

She gingerly sat beside him, hugging her own knees and putting her hair behind her ears.

"Couldn't sleep?", she said.

"Yeah, classic."

"Me neither."

She brushed a wisp of hair out of his eyes and their gazes met. She pursed her lips, her eyes reflecting sadness.

"For how long have you not slept properly?"

He shrugged and looked away. "Can't remember. Weeks, maybe."

He stubbornly stared in front of himself, refusing to meet her glance.

"Newt...you know Tom would be devastated if he saw how you treated yourself, right?"

His heartbeat sped up, every thump threatening to break his chest open.

Of course he knew. It was one layer more weighing down on his shoulders. He was disappointing Tommy even in death.

But he was hopelessly powerless; depression was like quicksand, pulling him deeper down, too powerful for him to protest, leaving him to helplessly watch as it buried him.

Finally, he nodded.

"Please let that motivate you in tough times, okay?", she said.

A lump formed in Newt's throat. "Okay.", he croaked.

Teresa then wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, Newt returning it with same force. When she let go, there was a moment of silence before she asked,

"Can I braid your hair? I mean, we both aren't going to sleep soon."

His heart wrenched. It was usually Tommy who braided his hair.

"'Course, it's a good killtime."

Teresa smiled. "True."

***

Was it possible to feel homesick for a person? Because at that moment, it was all Newt felt. He missed having his boyfriend's arms around his neck, the two of them sharing a breath as their foreheads touched, music blaring. That's what he considered home,  _who_  he considered home, and he missed him so much he wanted to scream.

The Centre was radiating with life: people were dancing and singing, music was played on wooden instruments. Smiles were etched on people's faces. Everything was screaming  _happiness_.

Then there was Newt, standing aside and observing. Ever since he remembered about himself, he greatly enjoyed parties, but not anymore. All the cheerfulness, all those happy faces-it all seemed so wrong to him. How could he allow himself to smile and laugh when he knew Tommy would never be able to do the same?

He was incredibly out of place. On one side, there was a celebration, the definition of merriness, people bearing hope in their hearts. On the other side was he, the definition of misery, having no hope for his pathetic life. He pitied everyone who burdened themselves with a task to keep him going. It was a Sisyphus's work.

"Yoo man, come and join!" Minho appeared by his side, a grin plastered on his face.

"Nah."

"I can't accept that. C'mon."

"Naah."

In the distance, Sonya and Harriet were making out. Frypan, Gally and Teresa were in a circle around dancing Brenda, but when they noticed Minho and Newt, they all hurried toward them.

"Is there a problem? Having trouble convincing our boy to socialize?", said Brenda.

"A bit.", said Minho.

"Let's go!", yelled Frypan and Gally, grabbing Newt by shoulders. Brenda and Teresa joined, pulling him by arms. Minho clapped him on the back.

"Guys, I'm really not in mood-"

"That's exactly why you need a party.", said Minho.

 

As he danced, he tried to repress every thought that knocked on the door of his consciousness. And for once, music was louder than his conflicted mind.

***

Where the fuck were Minho's trousers?

Newt looked into the chest of drawers and around the room, but couldn't find them. When he asked Minho if he could borrow them, Minho said he played (insert eyebrow wiggling) with Brenda in those, which was probably untrue. Or not. Either way, Newt would rather not walk around in mud-soaked pants, a result of his dizziness.

Ah, of course they were under the bed.

When he put them on, he checked the pockets in case there was something that shouldn't be in his ownership. What he found was a folded paper. His breath hitched, heart picking up rate.

_For Newt_

It was written in Tommy's handwriting.

He was about to pass out. His hands shook. A million questions brewed in his mind, bubbling and steaming.

Why hadn't he seen it before? What was it doing in Minho's pocket? Seven months had passed, why hadn't he shown him the letter?! When did Tommy give it to him? Didn't he die unexpectedly in a fight?

Newt sat on the bed and with trembling fingers unfolded the letter.

 

_Newt,_

_if you're reading this, then you're probably well and healthy, which makes me the happiest man in the world. It also finally makes W.I.C.K.E.D. good._

_I know you will never approve of this, but please understand. When I read your note, I knew I could never do it. Killing you would be like killing myself. How could I take away life of the only person I loved with my whole heart and soul? How could I shoot you, aiming to kill, and watch all light die out from your eyes like candle light being extinguished, knowing it was my fault? I couldn't. I love you too much to let that happen._

_Rat man confronted me few days ago, saying there's a way to save you. But...that means I'll have to give W.I.C.K.E.D. my brain for an experiment. If it succeeds, the cure to Flare will be discovered and you'll live. If not, I guess we'd have met in afterlife somehow._

_So, I was left with two choices: kill you or sacrifice myself. And I chose the latter. My life was already yours. If I killed you, I'd have lived with the guilt of your death on my shoulders, knowing I could have saved you but didn't, and I wouldn't have been able to handle it, to handle a life without you. I don't really trust W.I.C.K.E.D., but I've got to give them a chance. After all, it's down to you or me, and I've chosen you, and in every story_ ,  _over a hundred of lifetimes, I'd always choose you, over and over again._

_I hope one day you'll forgive me. And please bear in your mind that you'll always be the owner of my heart, that I love you unconditionally, truly, deeply. That your laugh will always ring in my ears and taste of your lips never leave mine. That every moment we shared is cherished in my mind like the most precious treasure._

_I love you, Newt. Always have. Always will._

_Your Thomas_

 

An agonizing sob escaped Newt's lips. He cupped his mouth with a hand, gripping the letter in other and shutting his eyes tightly, letting the tears flow. Pain and emptiness, like underfed vultures, feasted on his anguish, every bite sending waves of searing pain through his bones, making him double up in agony. He tried to breathe, but his throat was too tight.

It was impossible to fight, so he let his raging emotions crush him. He was already broken beyond repair, so what was the point in resisting?

 

_Tommy, you bloody idiot._

How could he be so stupid?! He willingly gave up his life for him. Donated his brain to escape a life where they couldn't have a future together.

Suddenly, Ava Paige's words echoed inside his head:

_One boy willingly sacrificed himself for the greater good, so we named the cure after him: Stephen's cure._

_He'll be remembered for centuries, everyone will know his name. He saved human race. He's a hero._

_-I didn't know any Stephen, but he must've been too selfless._

Ava's sad smile flashed in front of his eyes _._

_He just cared deeply about others._

Cared about  _him_. Saved the world from a horrible disease just so  _he_  could live.

Pulling his hair, Newt let out a frustrated scream.

Tommy was a hero, but he was depressingly dead. And it was his fault.  _All his fucking fault_.

Right from the start, he knew Tommy was too great for him. All Newt did was destroy everything he touched, and he was terribly afraid he would destroy Tommy too. And now he finally did.

"Newt?"

Minho appeared in the doorway, breathing fast. Newt felt anger rising from his gut, a fiery monster feeding on his grief.

Minho spotted the letter clutched in Newt's hand. Immediately, his gaze snapped to Newt's flaming eyes and colour drained out of his face.

"Did you ever plan on showing me this?", Newt said, absolute hurt clearly audible in his voice. He held up the letter clasped in his shaking hand.

Minho seemed to have lost his ability to speak.

"I asked you something, Minho, and I want an answer."

Minho grimaced and looked away before meeting Newt's eyes again. "I'd tell you when you got over his death. Didn't want you to think what happened to Thomas was your fault."

Newt stood up, taking a step forward, his vision blurry from tears that welled up his his eyes. "And you thought that gave you the right to straight up  _lie_  to me?", he said in a low, dangerous growl. "You thought it was okay for you to make up a story which I would believe was true for  _seven bloody months_  and then discover that my best friend improvised it? Do you-Can you even imagine how I feel?"

Minho's expression was blank. "I can't."

"Betrayed.", Newt hissed. "That's how I feel, Minho. Did you really think I would react any differently if you gave me this letter later? That I'd be just cool with it?! I don't understand, what the bloody hell was in your mind back then?!"

His voice was still low and furious, but he could taste the salt on his lips from crying.

"I was just trying to protect you from truth, but that was very stupid, I'm sorry."

Anger shook his body, draining all strength from his muscles. He felt like passing out again.

"You're sorry. That's pathetic. There's no possible way to properly apologize for what you did, Minho." He paused, taking a deep breath. 

"You know how much Tommy means to me.", he said, his voice breaking. "He was everything I had. And this", he held up the letter, shaking it. "this is all that's left from him. The only thing convincing me he wasn't just a dream. How-how could you do this to me?", he sobbed, barely managing to get the words out. Just like that, anger disappeared in a wisp of smoke and was replaced by pure grief, the merciless one which annihilated souls, leaving a person like an empty shell of who they once were.

Tired. Tired of feeling, tired of living. Newt's muscles gave up supporting him and he started falling forward, but Minho caught him.

"Newt?!"

He clung onto Minho, gripping him firmly, and broke down on his friend's shoulder, letting it all out. He couldn't bring himself to care about crying in front of others anymore. He just wanted it to  _end_.

"He died because of me.", muttered Newt.

Minho pulled away and took him by shoulders. His concerned eyes bore into Newt's. "It's not your fault, alright? It was his choice."

"But I was the cause. Which makes it my fault."

"No, it doesn't. It would be your fault if you made him do it, but you didn't. Stop blaming yourself. Okay?"

He still believed he was responsible for his boyfriend's death. And it killed him inside.

"Okay. Just..."

His shoulders were free from Minho's hands, but since Newt's legs still felt like jelly, he sat back on the bed.

Minho raised an eyebrow questionably.

"Did you read it?" Newt found himself feeling protective over the letter. It was for him and him only.

"Yours? Nah. Thomas wrote me one too. Explained what he was about to do and to give you yours if you come back."

Ah, of course. Newt guessed that. It was so Tommy-like. He knew Minho would never let him do it, so he found another way round. Also, he probably didn't want to go without saying goodbye.

God, he knew him by heart.

He buried his face into his hands and rubbed away tears. When he looked up, Minho was studying him.

"You okay?"

"Bruh."

Minho laughed, but his expression quickly transformed into a serious one.

"You will be. I promise."

 _Fat chance_ , Newt thought.

"Okay."

***

Stephen. How random. He'll always be his Tommy though.

Light summer breeze swept his hair as he inhaled salty ocean air. The sky was a beautiful palette of red, yellow and purple, the sun seemingly melting on the horizon. Shame he'd never witness such a view again.

He stood at the edge of the cliff. Everything was so peaceful, too peaceful for a troubled messy mind like his.

The weigh of Tommy's death lay heavy on his chest. Guilt put up a bonfire under his feet, igniting his entire body and watching him burn. Too long had he suffered in fire. Now he was going to put it out with cool ocean water.

He just...couldn't live like that any longer. Everyone had someone to live for; he had no one. What he only did was burden his friends with his misery. They'd be much better off without him.

There were no tears in his eyes; he was too drained to produce any.

"I'm sorry, Tommy", he whispered, "but I can't live without you either."

Turning his back to the edge of the cliff, he closed his eyes. It was easier to fall backwards; he knew, he'd done it before. Spreading out his arms, he leaned back and fell into the ocean like a bird whose wings were broken.

Instinctively, he held his breath, but soon it was to no use. His eyes snapped open. He was already so deep he couldn't see the surface. Gagging, he gulped impossible amounts of water, his lungs screaming for air. His head pulsed and he could feel his heart thump in his ears, water pressing on him from all sides. The corners of his vision started turning black. 

And then, he saw him. Tommy was almost solid, reaching out to him. His expression was hard, determined. He cupped Newt's face with both hands and as Newt got a brief glance at his boyfriend's eyes, their lips met and he blacked out.

 

Slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting at blinding light until he got used to his white surroundings. Was he in a room or in a facility of some sort? Or just floating in space? He wasn't sure. It didn't matter though, because what caught all his attention was his dead boyfriend standing approximately 5 meters away from him. Tommy's bottom lip quivered, eyes swimming in tears.

"Tommy?", Newt exhaled his name in disbelief and, like it was the signal he waited for, he bolted forward and threw his arms around Newt's neck and legs around his waist. They melted into each other in a tight embrace of sobs and relief, clutching one other with shaking hands like they feared other might evaporate. Tommy lifted his head and held Newt's face, the two of them sharing a breath as their lips brushed. Newt sighed and then, Tommy kissed him.

With every sigh, every time he tasted his salty lips, he was breathed back to life. 

Tommy's feet on the ground, hands in Newt’s hair, on his cheeks, his neck. Newt's hand on Tommy's waist, pulling him closer until there was no space between them, other skimming down his back and sensing him shiver as he did so. Time lost its concept as they kissed, longingly and passionately, like only two lovers who'd been thirsty for each other's love could. And after such a long time, Newt felt home again.

When their lips finally parted, they gasped for air like fish on land. Newt brought his forehead to Tommy's, still holding him close and never meaning to let go.

"You fucking dumbass.", Tommy said, gripping Newt's face. "Did you really think you'd die?"

Newt straightened up to look at his boyfriend's eyes, his heart skipping a beat as he was reminded how stunningly beautiful they were. He gently brushed away tear tracks that ran down Tommy's cheeks.

"What do you mean 'think'? Am I not dead?"

"No. But you're not alive either." He paused, placing his hands behind Newt's neck, his expression solemn. "We're somewhere in the loop."

Newt didn't get what he was talking about.

"How is that possible? I..I drowned and saw you-"

"Exactly! You didn't really drown, that's what I'm trying to tell you."

"Tommy, what the bloody hell-"

"Just listen!", he urged. "I-When I died, I traded my life for yours by believing that my death would save you. Ever since then, even though you couldn't see or hear me, I was always by your side. When you felt down, I'd try to hold your hand or touch your face but it was to no use, you couldn't feel it. I was doomed to watch you fall apart, entirely helpless to do anything about it. But that's-that's the curse of being someone's guardian angel."

Newt's brain was racing with information. Tommy hurried on.

"That's why you didn't die when Rat man gave you the poison either! The only time when I can actually do something is when you are literally about to die: I hold it off until someone else comes and saves you. That's...also the only time when we can communicate. But never this long. The only exception is when you're deeply unconscious. I-", he looked to the side, then titled his head in Newt's direction, blinking away tears. "I failed to alert the nearest person possible in time and when I came for you, it was almost too late. I'm never forgiving myself for that. But since you went in coma, I took advantage of it and managed to get our spirits here so I could see you because I-I missed you  _so fucking much_ , Newt."

Newt's eyes tingled with tears and as Tommy buried his head in his chest, he squeezed him as though his arms could destroy the guilt absorbing him.

"I missed you too.", Newt managed to say.

After deep breaths replaced their sobs, Newt cupped Tommy's face with both hands and planted a kiss between his eyebrows.

"Don't you bloody dare blame yourself, you hear me? I'm with you now, that's all I care about."

Tommy whined. "But I care! You cou-"

Newt cut him off by occupying his lips with a kiss.

"I want to stay with you, forever."

Tommy had that same look in his eyes like the last time they met, like something inside him broke.

"But you can't, Newt. I can't let you, that's the point. You can only die naturally; if you or someone else tries to kill you I have to prevent it. And honestly... I'm glad it's that way."

It was like a white hot blade pierced his heart. "What?"

"Newt, please don't get me wrong. You deserve to live a happy life. It would be incredibly selfish of me to wish you died just so we could be together. That day will come too. But until then...live."

"But I don't want to! Don't you understand?! The only time I've felt happiness was when I was with you!"

Tommy stood on tiptoes and kissed his forehead, then lips, and with his mouth still brushing Newt's, said "You'll find it, I promise. And please, don't try to see me again. The stars didn't align in our favour, Newt, but I'll always be there, right next to you, as long as you keep me in your heart." He put his hand on Newt's chest, right over his heart, Newt squeezing it. "Remember me."

Their foreheads met.

"How could I ever forget you?"

 

Newt opened his eyes and gasped. It took him a moment to register that he was no longer in Tommy's arms. A feeling of dread pinched his heart.

He lay on his bed, his limbs too heavy to move. Groaning, he moved his head to the side, seeing a sleeping figure of a blonde girl near the door, morning light falling on a table where she rested her head.

"Sonya?", he whispered in a raspy voice.

She lifted her head up, startled for a second, but when she noticed Newt, she smiled wide and trotted to his side, pulling him into a hug, but quickly letting go.

"My God, you're  _finally_  awake. You've been out for almost a day, everyone was worried nuts. Minho, Brenda and Teresa wouldn't have slept if I didn't make them go to bed, volunteering to look after you instead of them." Then her smile transformed into a thin line, concern clouding her face. She patted his arm. "You feeling alright? Want me to help you sit up?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

After she pulled him up and he put a pillow behind his back, resting his head against cool wall, she said, "I promised I'll call them if you wake up, so they'll be here in a moment, okay?"

He nodded and she took off, disappearing behind the door. 

Newt's skin still tingled on places where Tommy touched him, ghosts of his kisses haunted his lips, his smell hung heavy in the air. The memory of their forbidden meeting was carved in his heart with permanent ink, never to be forgotten.

He was gonna move on. He had to, if not for himself, then for Tommy.

  
_I was doomed to watch you fall apart, entirely helpless to do anything about it._

Newt was determined to never make him feel that way again.

The door flew open and Minho sprinted in, accompanied with Teresa and Brenda. Minho reached him first and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug.

"Don't ever,  _ever_  scare us like that again. Do you hear me?"

"I won't. I promise."

And this time, he really meant it.

***

You get lazy, you get sad. Plain and simple.

Earlier, he had no energy to even get lazy. But after he'd seen Tommy again, something changed.

He wanted to live.

At first, it was only because imagining Tommy struggle watching him die inside pained him more than their miserable fate.

Later though...He decided to come at peace with the fact that Tommy wouldn't be coming back. Practically, he was there beside him, but they couldn't have a life they dreamed of. It always gave him a sinking feeling in his chest. He was so close and yet...so unreachable. 

Newt had to get used to a life without him.

And as he worked on field, trying to be productive, he strived to distract himself from the nagging feeling of depression pulling him by his feet deeper into its quicksand. But he fought, pushing it away and refusing to let it consume him.

Breathe in. Slam a shovel in the earth. Let it out. Repeat.

He was gonna get better.

He had to. For Tommy. For his friends. For himself.

He  _had_  to.

***

Sitting in a circle of his friends around bonfire in Minho's backyard felt just like old times. Laughter, singing until their throats hurt, passing food and drinks. For the first time after Tommy's death, he genuinely enjoyed the crowd.

"Oi, Gally! Pass those ugly cookies!", Newt shouted over the sound of Frypan trying to sing.

Gally laughed and offered him a plate. "Sure, mate."

Minho dramatically gasped, leaving his mouth hanging open and a hand on his chest for extra effect. "Honestly how dare you? Do you know how many souls I sacrificed to make these?"

He felt a pang of sadness in his gut but ignored it. It was a  _joke_ , goddamn.

Newt threw a whole cookie in his mouth and smirked. "Well, Brenda's for sure."

Brenda raised an eyebrow. "Newt, you know my cooking tastes way better than that."

Newt snorted. Minho turned to her. "Listen honey.....Are you trying to insult my superb skills-"

"They're still ugly.", called Newt.

Minho pointed at a plate full of cookies on Newt's lap. "And you're still eating them, shuckface."

"Only because I don't wanna starve."

"You keep tellin' yourself that."

Minho sounded so genuinely offended that Newt burst into laughter. Brenda and Gally joined, and soon the laughter spread around the bonfire like a chain reaction, even though most people didn't even know what they were laughing at. Newt didn't even find Minho's reaction that funny anymore, but it felt so good to laugh that he didn't want to stop.

***

His feet dangled off the cliff as the sun painted a masterpiece on a morning's sky. On the contrary to the last time he visited the place, the tranquil vibes of it perfectly matched the state of his mind. It was only symbolic to come to the place where he'd fallen apart when he finally found peace.

Did he still miss Tommy?

Yes. God, yes. And he was never gonna stop missing him. Tommy may've been gone, but he still lived in Newt's heart, where he kept him safe and sound.

One may ask if he ever felt haunted, but how could a person be haunted by an angel?

He had serenity in his mind, an angel in his heart and a dull ache for the lost lover in his soul, but he learned to live with it.

Pinning his hopes on Tommy being around, he said the words he hadn't gotten a chance to say last time they met.

"I love you, Tommy. I hope you know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so!!!! i'm kinda sad i won't be writing this au anymore, it really grew close to my heart but i'm also really proud bc i finally finished smth yay!! also shout out to my bff and other friends putting up w me throughout this mess!! u know who u r guys and ily, thanks for everything♥

**Author's Note:**

> Ooohh what will happen next?? Is Ava Paige really going to keep her promise?? You'll find out next week :')


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